


Hurricane

by ephemerality



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Multi, OT3, aged up of course, for gabberwocky, for gabberwocky on tumblr, i was experimenting i'm sorry it's terrible, like over thanksgiving break, like ten years in the future, like the day before ep 8 came out, using this for my yoi secret santa entry!!!, wow i wrote this a while ago, yes i ship yurabek this was written before we met Otabek okay, yoi secret santa 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-11 15:51:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8997187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemerality/pseuds/ephemerality
Summary: "It is impossible." Yuuri sways them from side to side. "For anyone to love you as much as I do." He pauses. "Except Viktor. Though he might be in a bit of trouble at the moment."





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is my secret santa for the wonderful [gabberwocky](http://gabberwocky.tumblr.com) on tumblr!!! this wasn't really where i thought this was gonna go but i wrote it post ep nine and couldn't bear to change it so

Yuuri, he notes with fondness, is like the rain. Sometimes soft, gentle, other times vicious and unyielding. Sometimes he graces you with warm drizzles interspersed with sunshine, painting rainbows in your sky, in the puddles on your ground. Sometimes he hits you with a flood, the way one would wield a 2x4. He can ingratiate himself anywhere and be accepted, the ocean, the sea, the tadpole pond behind your grandma's house. Yuuri can, with a simple, offhanded phrase thrown over his shoulder, make or break your entire life philosophy. He finds it jarring, that one person can be so sweet and so cruel, that one person can have this much power and not even know.

Viktor is the wind, without a doubt. Wild and free, but incredibly needy, always running his fingers through your hair and tugging at your hand. _Look at me, I'm over here, don't you love me?_ He'll sneak up on you, catch you by surprise, startle you like that sudden loud noise late at night when you're all alone, then gentle immediately, caressing you with soft, teasing apologies, wrapping you up in his tendrils of affection. If he wanted to, though, he could knock down houses like Lincoln Logs, total buildings, control the direction of the rain and the strength of the waves the way he regulates Yuuri's rapidly varying temperaments. He knows exactly the power he has, but uses it so sparingly that it's easy to forget that he has any at all.

Together, the two of them are an unstoppable force of nature, unopposable. They fit, they match, they take the world by storm. But for some reason, they have chosen to include him, and he cannot fathom why.

It's ridiculous, he thinks idly as he taps his nail on the shell of an egg to crack it. It's been years, almost ten, ~~you'd think that'd be enough time~~ and time and time again they have laid his fears to rest, and every time those fears come back in a different form. _They don't need you. Why would they possibly need_ you, _when they've got each other?_

He's being unfair to them, he knows. He beats the egg, moving the fork mindlessly. He hates the voices in his head that make him doubt his lovers, that only shut up when they're around. But they're not around right now, they went to the store, because he asked them to, because he wanted to bake and they were out of cocoa powder, because they're the kind of wonderful boyfriends who would do that for him while he fusses around with the ingredients he does have. Only Viktor was going to go, but he and Yuuri both remembered the last time they'd sent Viktor to the store by himself, and decided it would be best if Yuuri tagged along. They would be okay if he wasn't here when they came back. Part of him wonders if they would even notice if he just up and vanished. He hates that part of himself. They have been nothing but good to him, even when he doesn't deserve it. Yuuri had said they would be back in fifteen minutes, and right on time he hears a key in the lock. Bless Yuuri and his ability to keep Viktor on track. Whereas he only exacerbates the problem.

"Yurachka?" It's Viktor's honey voice, which means he should be on his guard. "We're home."

_ Obviously _ , he thinks. It's not as if they've mastered the art of astral projection quite yet.

Yuuri comes into the kitchen and sets a box of cocoa powder on the counter in front of him, wrapping warm arms around his waist and kissing his cheek. He leans back into the embrace. They're both still taller than him, and now that he's all done growing he knows it'll probably always be that way. He likes to make a fuss about it, but really it doesn't bother him all that much anymore. It's comforting, in some strange way.

"It really was an accident," Yuuri murmurs against his skin. "Don't castrate him, we can't lose a national treasure just because its owner is…unique."

He laughs softly, turning to kiss Yuuri, hand reaching up to touch his face. _See_ , he tells the voices. _Yuuri would die of embarrassment if he talked like that to anyone else, even Viktor. He loves me._

"I love you," Yuuri says against his lips.

"I love you more," he breathes.

"Not possible," Yuuri sing-songs, the most playful smile gracing the most lovely mouth, and he wonders how on earth he got so lucky.

"Nothing's impossible," he argues, feebly. They've had this conversation before. His arms move unbidden to wrap around Yuuri's neck.

"It is impossible." Yuuri sways them from side to side. "For anyone to love you as much as I do." He pauses. "Except Viktor. Though he might be in a bit of trouble at the moment."

"Yeah, I gathered that from the honey voice," because Yuuri knows exactly what he's talking about. "What did he do, strip in the parking lot?"

"Yes," Yuuri says, point blank. He blanches.

"Y _uu_ ri," Viktor complains, striding into the kitchen wearing nothing but his Pokémon underwear. "You're making it out to be worse than it is."  
He feels his blood pressure begin to rise. "Viktor," he starts, figuring he should at least give his absent-minded lover the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he just felt like walking around the house in his underwear. Which was fine. He definitely did not mind that at all. "Where are your clothes?"

"Oh. I put them in the laundry."

He takes a breath, noting the tiny smirk on Viktor's lips, feeling Yuuri's thumbs rub soothing circles into his hipbones. "Why, Viktor, did you put your clothes in the laundry?"

"Because I spilled cocoa powder all over them, and I didn't want to track it everywhere." Viktor's tone is so matter-of-fact, like everything he's saying makes perfect sense. _At least he's being honest._

He looks back at Yuuri, who's trying not to laugh. "The first box he pulled off the shelf looked like it had been messed with, so he took off the lid to see if the seal was still intact, but it was gone, and then an older lady hit him with her cart by accident and he kinda spilled it all over himself. I knew you'd be upset if the car got messed up, so I made him take his clothes off before he got in."

"My hero," he says dryly, secretly thankful that it hadn't been worse. "Viktor, go shower, you've still got cocoa powder all over you."

"Join me?" Viktor asks hopefully, and he has half a mind to say no, turning to Yuuri for support, but Yuuri kisses him and announces that he'll be waiting in the shower. To this day, he still finds it funny that a shower large enough to comfortably accommodate the three of them was a requirement when they were house hunting years ago.

Viktor takes a step towards him, and he takes a step back. "Don't get cocoa powder on me, stupid." But there is no heat behind those words, and Viktor grins.

"What is it, Yura? You don't want to help me wash off?"

He arches an eyebrow. "You're inherently filthy."

"Yep," Viktor agrees, popping the _P_ , and takes another step forward. He steps away again, and his lower back meets the counter. "But you like me that way."

Viktor stops, resting his palms flat on the counter on either side of him, lips hovering less than an inch away from his own, waiting, trusting that he will meet him, that he won't leave him hanging.

He could walk away right now, he muses, let Viktor and Yuuri be happy, together. But he loves them both, so, so much, and he's always been inherently, unapologetically selfish, so he surges forwards and feels their teeth clack together, relishing in the way Viktor sucks in a breath and strong hands wrap around his thighs and hoist him up.His legs cross behind Viktor's back, and he's warm, so warm, and Viktor's mouth is hungry but his hands are careful, one under his ass to support him and the other cupping the back of his neck, thumb brushing his cheek, and for anyone else this would be entirely sexual but it doesn't feel that way to him. This is how they show emotional intimacy, with this kind of proximity, and while Yuuri's kisses build him up with love and affection and confidence, Viktor's have a way of laying him bare and raw and making him stronger by helping him to face his fears, and he can't say he's all that surprised when the first tear falls. Viktor pulls back, eyes wide, and he feels terrible because he knows Viktor doesn't do well with tears, and is still learning how to react, even now.

Viktor kisses the tears from his face and carves the words _I love you_ into his skin with searing, adoring lips, and he falls in love a little more. The three of them have been growing out their hair together. Viktor's reaches his shoulders, just barely, and he cries into it, carding his nails through long silver locks. It has to hurt, but Viktor doesn't comment. He just stands there, in the kitchen, holding him, humming _Stay By My Side and Never Leave Me_ under his breath, rocking them back and forth slowly.

"I missed you," he chokes out, and feels the imprint of a smile against the side of his neck.

"I missed you more."

He lifts his head, looking at Viktor through his tears. Years ago he might've been embarrassed, or afraid, but Viktor has seen him far uglier and far more vulnerable and is still here. "I have a question."

"Okay."

"It's stupid."

"Okay."

"And if you make fun of me, I won't put out for a week."

Viktor smiles at that, like he knows it's an idle threat. Which it is. But that isn't the point. "Okay."

He takes a deep breath. He can say this. It's not stupid to him, and he knows Viktor will understand. "Yuuri's the rain, and you're wind, but what am I?"

Viktor strokes his cheek with the back of his knuckles, seriously contemplating the question like it makes sense and it actually _matters_ , and he feels relief wash over him like a flood. Why did he even bother doubting his lovers anymore, when they were so good to him?

"Heat," Viktor says.

He blinks. "What?" Because he is literally a heat-leeching, cold-blooded lizard who survives solely off of cuddles. That makes negative amounts of sense.

Viktor laughs at his expression. "You give us passion, Yurachka. Both of us are cold, and old, and when we met you we had lost our passion. Without you, we'd probably just laze around all day. We've done pretty much everything we wanted to do. But you bring light into our lives, Yuri. You take this rain and this wind and you make a hurricane. We couldn't be one without you."

He likes that. The idea of them being a hurricane, of being something they need. Viktor's eyes are shimmering in a way that's different from normal, like tears, but he doesn't really mind. He leans his forehead against Viktor's. "You're not old," he says, tears in his voice, but the good kind. "You're in your thirties."

"Old," Viktor repeats.

"Antique," he corrects, and sees Yuuri hovering in the entrance to the kitchen behind them, probably worried but unsure if he should intrude. Sometimes he forgets he's not the only one with insecurities in this relationship. He reaches a hand out to Yuuri. "C'mere, любовь."

Yuuri's face smooths out, the anxiety he'd almost missed fading away as he moves toward them, taking his hand and resting his chin on Viktor's shoulder. "What are we upset about?" Yuuri asks, like he hadn't heard most of the conversation, although he was pretty sure Yuuri and his supersonic hearing had heard everything.

"We're not upset," he answers, closing his eyes. "We're a hurricane."

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://obsessivemarrish.tumblr.com) <3


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